Men Are
by GuardianSwan
Summary: An ancient Chinese proverb once said, “There are two perfectly good men, one dead, and the other unborn”. It's a shame the males of Organization XIII are neither - Larxene elaborates on this.
1. Wake Up Call

Men. Beautiful creatures, aren't they? The plus to our minus. Everything about them invites us in; their face, their eyes, and don't get me started on the aroma they seem to emit. All that from one Y chromosome. Sadly, sometimes it's hard to appreciate that beauty, especially when you're in a position like mine. Number XII, The Savage Nymph, the only female in Organization XIII. Welcome to a typical day in the life of me - Larxene.

It starts off like any other day; there is always variation, of course, but whatever happens, I'm never woken up by the sun gently shining through my curtains - I have my personal Swiss Army alarm clock, with eleven different functions at least. Today it's function number three over nine, type four. That bohemian bastard Xaldin is chasing Demyx (the most annoying Nobody in non-existence) through the castle with the assortment of knives from the kitchen. I wonder what's provoked him this time; maybe Mullet-Head made Fuzz Face's cereal soggy.

I yawn and stretch out of bed, pulling on a skimpy vest top over my bare top half - I don't need a bra, I'm that thin. And yes, I'm rather proud of it as well. I guess this is one advantage of being the only girl; I can't compare myself to anyone else, but then I can't make anyone else feel like shit, either. Blessing and a curse, really. I run a comb through my short, blonde hair except for the two strands that never seem to go. When I leave the bedroom I run into the very reminder of my insecurity, and remember that I do compare myself to one other in this place.

Marluxia greets me with a cheerful smile and offers me breakfast. As we walk down the many stairs, I admire what he's done with his image today, and my insides sting with envy. His hair is a soft shade of coral pink, coming down to his shoulders and every flick is perfectly symmetrical. His fringe hangs in short, loose bangs above his eyes. Oh, his eyes. A gorgeous sapphire blue, abundant with expressions galore. He is wearing a tight, mint green shirt before he has to change into his uniform - what a body. There really is nothing wrong with him. I hate Marluxia. And yet, he is the closest one to me. I can't recall a time I'm not by his side - I need him. I thrive on him to bitch about anything that moves, for him to listen to my mindless, petty, feminine rants. He gets sick of me sometimes, I can tell. But who doesn't?

We enter the kitchen and he insists I have breakfast. Reluctant as I am, I can't help but obey, so go to dig out some bread and butter - the guy can't expect me to eat that much. As I slot it into the toaster, both Marluxia and I are greeted by a monotonous grunt. I glance over my shoulder to find that Vexen has emerged from his lab - I swear that man lives in there. He grabs a cereal bar and a glass of milk, then quickly paces off back to his cavern. God knows what he works in there, Vexen is such a geek. I'm indifferent about him, though. The only times I see him are for school, meetings and meals, so I rarely get a chance to talk to him. Better that way, I think, I'm sure he's a boring prick.

My toast pops up, barely done - I like it that way. I spread a fractional amount of butter on it and join Marluxia who has poured me a glass of skimmed milk. I thank him and start to take small bites. He watches me intently, making sure I actually eat it. Another thing I hate about him; he's so overprotective, always makes sure I'm staying 'healthy'. As if I need that kind of attention. I force down the last bit of it, and wash it down with my drink - it may as well be water, but Marluxia insists I need calcium in me. I take both our stuff to the counter and leave it there - as far as I'm aware it's Luxord's turn to do the dishes.

Now that he's on my mind, I hope to see the gambler as Marluxia and I go back upstairs to change. Sadly, no such thing happens. I quite like Luxord - it's the accent that gets me. Oh come on, what do you expect? He's British. So well spoken and gentlemanly. That is until he lays his cards down, and becomes the most logical and smug git on the face of this earth. It pisses me off to see him play, I gave up on participating a long time ago. I'm only interested when there's stripping involved.

There are too many things I hate in this Organization, and the uniform comes very close to the top. Black is so last season. That's all it is; a black coat, with black underclothes that you don't even see. It does nothing for my figure, and yet does absolutely everything for the men's. Typical, really. Still, I'd get hauled over the coals, as they say, if I didn't wear it inside the castle.

Speaking of coals, or anything to do with fire actually, I can hear Axel's overly irritating whooping and cheering. I dread to think what he's up to this early in the morning as I poke my head round the door. All clear. The sound seems to be coming from upstairs. I don't need to wait long before I see its source. That red-haired twat zooms past and down two fights of stairs on yet another household appliance. What the fuck could it be this time? Judging by the noise it's making, I can tell that Axel has somehow managed to decapitate Lexaeus' treadmill and turn it into a fucking race car. Honestly, how the fuck can such an idiot like him be loved by practically everyone?! If I'm honest, that's what I hate about him more. Not because of his annoying antics and pranks, but the fact that no matter what he does or how much shit he lands himself in, people can't help but be infatuated by him. It makes me so angry I can't receive that kind of attention. And what's worse is that I can't help sometimes but have a soft spot for him. I can feel myself shaking viciously - the urge to zap him is unbelievable.

Then, any animosity I feel disappears just like that as another voice shouts after Axel. My legs find it hard to support me as Xigbar runs from the end of the corridor above. His voice is rough, and crafted into the sexiest surfer accent that I have ever known. He bounds down the stairs and stops directly opposite me, I swear I have become a pool of bubbling liquid, and can feel sparks jumping from my body. He still hasn't got changed, so only a pair of black slacks hang loosely from below his waist, leaving his amazing body on show. Dear God. His muscles are naturally toned, but that's not even half of it. Nearly all of Xigbar's upper body is covered in scars. No one dares ask him where or how he got them; they vary in shape, size and depth, and almost seem natural, like they're supposed to be there. My favourite one, though, has to be the largest one on his back. It goes all the way from his left shoulder down to his right hip, and just seeing it makes me melt. I once had the privilege of counting how many there are during a lovely game of strip poker. Sixteen. Sixteen beautiful scars cover just his torso. What I wouldn't give to count the ones below. Oh dear, I think I may have developed a scar fetish.

He lifts his arm up and waves slightly, flexing his waist. I want to melt. "Hey," he grins. "I think I got myself a new scar, wanna check it out?" He laughs and walks over to me. I can't be seen to be weak, so I pull myself together and put on a sarcastic if a little flirty persona.

"_Another _scar?" I roll my eyes. "Geez, how many is this now?" I ask as he comes to a stop.

"Dunno, you've only counted my top half," he smirks. I grimace and am finding it extremely difficult to keep my cool - Marluxia would be getting beatings later. In fact, as soon as I've seen this. Bitch. He can't keep anything to himself, can he? Whatever, I'm totally distracted again as Xigbar lifts up his trouser leg. I can see which one it is; fresh and bright crimson, and yet it isn't weeping. It's quite small, and goes horizontally above his ankle. Even so, I'm transfixed by it. The temptation to touch it is almost unbearable. I want to make my own mark on him. Still, I retain myself and stand back up to his height. Well, as far as I can - I'm up to his shoulder.

"So how didja get this one?" I smirk slightly.

"Caught it on the treadmill, Axel- Oh shit yeah! Forgot about that dude. See ya later, Larx!" And with that he runs off, yet again the fire demon has got his better attention.

I sigh and remember that I have other business to attend to. Right. That pompous pink haired puff was getting the slapping of a lifetime. I turn on my heel and storm through his door, where he is sewing something by hand. He jumps as I burst through the door - I hope he's pricked his finger.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?!" I yell. "Who the fuck are you to be going around spreading shit about me?!" He doesn't flinch at my words, this gets me even more angry.

"What are you talking about, Larxene?" He asks innocently, an edge of annoyance in his tone.

"You bloody well know what you gay prick," I spit, knowing that this will get to him.

He rises out of his seat, and for the first time I feel intimidated by Marluxia. "Actually, I don't. Care to explain?" He keeps his voice controlled, but his eyes have changed; they're almost cat-like.

All of a sudden I feel like an idiot. I don't want to admit it, but I've wrongly accused him. I bite my lip. "I- I thought you uh, told Xigbar that I counted his, um, scars..." I trail off, too embarrassed to look him in the eye now.

I feel his body ease a bit, and it's safe to look at him. His face has completely changed again, only this time he's laughing. I can feel a vein twitch somewhere, what's so funny? "You counted his scars?" He pushes me playfully. "You sad shit."

Oops. "Mm," I reply. "And he knows this somehow." I exhale angrily and fold my arms, trying to make sense of it all.

"Well I certainly didn't tell him - I didn't know until now," Marluxia comments. "He must've noticed you doing it."

Oh shit. I bite my lip even harder - was I really that obvious? Hmm, I take these men for less than what they are. Marluxia says something, I don't listen, but I get the implication he wants me to leave. So I do as he says and let him resume his sewing. I quickly dash into my room and look in the mirror. I look a state; my eyes are wild, slightly quivering, and my pale face is smeared in red. I need to calm down, think this over. I decide the best way to do this is some target practise. My kunais appear in my hand, and I make my way to the recreation room to let off some steam.

Bullseye. Again. The dart board is boring me - I need moving targets. But I think most of my frustration has gone. While throwing my last few I think to myself; for a woman I don't get nearly half the respect I should, stupid male species. I tell you, if the Organization was female dominated... My trail of thought is interrupted by someone entering the room, quickly I turn around and launch a kunai at the bastard. Demyx yelps and runs off before I can pelt him any more. He always seems to be on the receiving end of my temper, or anyone's temper for that matter. I guess that's because he's so vulnerable, and, let's face it, water isn't exactly the most intimidating element. So you can imagine that he and I clash terribly, he keeps his distance. Wise choice, I'd say. If he's not being used as target practise for me, he's usually being tricked into pulling a stupid stunt or the victim of another 'SpaceFire Incorporated' prank - yeah, I know, Axel and Xigbar have weird brand names.

The morning passes by with a relatively normal pattern, as normal as it can be in this castle, that is. I find myself watching some kinda trash TV - America's Next Top Model crossed with Big Brother, or something like that anyway. I confess, I'm addicted. About half way through Marluxia joins me; we both love to watch it, that and Desperate Housewives. He shows me what he's been sewing all morning; it's a delicate white handkerchief with the tiniest, most intricate rose embroidered onto the corner. All done by hand. Wow, he really is a genius. I compliment him and then we both get stuck into this little modelling zoo - that Philipino male model cheated on the British girl! What a prick! And now she's crying. I swear, if I were that girl I'd show that twat what it means to mess with a woman! Pah, I could make a better model any day.

When the show has finished, the channel it's on reminds me of the day today. I close my eyes and try to keep my breathing even - it's Saturday. Yet another thing I hate about this group - the meetings. Every single bleeding Saturday. And half the time it isn't even a proper discussion. We just have to listen to our twat of a Superior prattle on about shit. Only his little bum chum, Saix, listens avidly, taking in every detail. Suck up. But then I guess it becomes a bit like school after that. Usually Axel or Xiggy lose concentration and start lobbing anything they can get their hands on. Hmm, my kunais may come in handy today.

The clock strikes twelve.


	2. They Did It Their Way

Hi people, sorry I haven't updated in a while – exams and all that jazz :(

Anyway, here is the next instalment of this little number!

I must say, I didn't like this chapter as much until it got towards the end.

Anyway, hope you enjoy ^^ Let me know what you think.

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Eleven. Marluxia effortlessly glides into the portal he has created. I exhale and wait for the echos of his chime to cease and mine to begin. It's a stupid system to file in by, of course it is; Xemnas created it. I stand up and extend my hand out in front of me, drawing from my energy to create a dark portal. Twelve. That's my cue. My feet tiptoe their way in and I am transported to my throne.

No matter how ridiculous the concept of meetings is, nor how over the top everything is, I'll never admit to anyone how damn superior I feel whenever I'm sat on my throne. Imperial, unstoppable, like the Queen I was born to be. What I wouldn't give for all those filthy peasants to be begging at my feet. I don't need a King - I would rule supreme. And I'd do it perfectly on my own.

Sadly, before I can drift off into my regal little fantasy, Xemnas' deep, monotone voice fills the throne room and we are silenced. I lean on the arm and support my already lolling head - this was going to be a long one. If there was one thing that topped the rest of this Organization's flaws, it had to be our Superior. The so-called maestro and leader who would supposedly make us whole once again. Yep, keep talking. We haven't progressed any further since us neophytes joined. He knew that, that and the fact that we were all getting impatient. Someone was bound to speak up soon, and when they do I hope they put that bastard in his place. He looks like he's about to say something, another load of crap, filled to the brim with lies.

"Where are Xigbar and Axel?"

Ok, not was I was expecting. But this gets heads turning as we realise the heads of the Idiot Brigade haven't showed up. Typical, I guess. I had lost count of how many times they had chosen to be 'fashionably late' to either a lesson or meeting. Yet somehow they always managed to get away with it. This would be no different. Everyone takes this as an opportunity to converse while they have the chance and are not under Xemnas' watchful glare. I sink back into my throne and look either side of me to see who I've ended up by.

To my left, and below me for once, sits Zexion who is deeply absorbed in some book. I can barely see his face for the sharply styled cobalt hair that falls over it. He's another member that I rarely speak to, but then hardly anyone speaks to him at all. I only ever see Marluxia and Axel talk to him, and when they do it's like I exist even less. Despite how much this infuriates me, I will never, ever speak a word against the boy for two sole reasons. One; the last person to do so writhed in Axel's raging fire, unforgiven and forever regretting their decision. Two; the quiet demeanour was an illusion, just like Zexion's gift, he could conjure images more terrifying than any human's mind could even begin to create. Just a boy, and he was untouchable.

He notices that I've taken to staring at him and slowly lifts his head from his page to reveal his visible eye. I flinch slightly, but that is unnecessary as he simply nods with a small smile then resumes his reading. A sudden impulse to cuddle him rushes through me and I am confused. He may have been the youngest, but I wasn't that much him. Could this be broodiness? I blink a couple of times and shake my head - word couldn't let out that I had the potential to be soft.

A sound from down below grabs everyone's attention. We all look down to see a remotely battered contraption heaving itself through the small doorway at the bottom and into the centre of the circular room. It wheezes and splutters, coughing big puffs of black smoke. And riding on top are the belated blockheads themselves, roaring at the top of their voices.

"I DID IT MYYYY WAAAAAAAAAY!"

About half the room starts cheering and whooping, or laughing uncontrollably. I see Zexion let out a small giggle and quickly turn away before the urge to glomp him takes over. Lexaeus is seething over the damage made to his treadmill, with Vexen rubbing his temples in frustration. Xemnas and Saix do not look amused, at all. In the midst of all the commotion, Axel and Xiggy absorb their glory, doing a small victory dance and such like. I slap my palm to my face - idiots.

"I am glad that you could join us..." Xemnas says bitterly.

Neither of them pay much attention to his comment as they both go to sit in their thrones, and I must say, for utter morons they do it in style. Xiggy teleports from the floor to above his seat and chooses to suspend himself from the back of it upside down. Meanwhile, flames erupt from Axel's hands that are pointing downwards and he launches himself up in a flurry of spiralling inferno. Whoa, our entrances should be like that. I make a mental note to bring this up if Xemnas feels like taking in our opinions. Still, the redhead sprawls out sideways along his seat and stretches his hands behind his head, obviously not caring about the glares he is receiving.

"Ahh," he shifts to get comfortable. "So, whatcha got lined up for us today, Mansex?"

A few of us chuckle at this, even me - I am forever in debt to whoever discovered that anagram. Xemnas twitches and chooses to ignore this, then carries on as normal. It still doesn't stop the odd snigger being let out into the whiteness of this room. Right, cue monotonous drone.

"The issue I would like to address today," he pauses. Yawn. "is teamwork."

Teamwork? Ha! The man doesn't know the meaning of the word! He's more self-absorbed than me, and that's saying something. This gets people murmuring and shifting uncomfortably. Xemnas holds his hand up for silence.

"Lately I have noticed a lack of co-operation between you all, be it in work, games or battles. You all choose to band off into your own little cliques, and from then on shun yourselves from the rest of the group"- That gorgeous surfer's voice adds some colour to this meeting.

"Says you who's bumming Señor Psychopath every twenty seconds? Get with the programme dude!" More laughs. That was the nickname we had for Saix - when provoked he quite literally went stark raving mad. When you weren't the one being chased it was usually quite funny to watch. Especially if you got Demyx on the receiving end. Anyway, the man himself tenses in his seat, I notice his eyes glower red slightly. Xemnas waits for quiet, then continues.

"As I was saying. You only stay with certain people. I bet that half of you in this room have only so much as acknowledged certain members."

At this people start to fidget and look around guiltily, including me. Now that I think about it, the only people I ever properly speak to are Marluxia and Xiggy on the odd occasion. That's bad. Everyone else seems to be realising they are just the same. Who knew, Xemnas was finally talking some sense.

"Exactly," he muses. "Which is why I have had several team building exercises devised in order to overcome this obstacle."

I can't help but snort. This is so unlike the guy. The others start talking excitedly before he can take notice that I laughed. Marluxia gets my attention and asks why Xemnas is doing this through a bunch of frantic hand signals. I signal him back saying I have no idea and insult the man in one way or another. He laughs and so do I, but then the next voice to silence us is is not monotonous at all, and I actually melt in my seat.

"Excuse me," Luxord's perfectly spoken British voice rings out like Big Ben. I bet he has a Big Ben of his own - ring-a-ding-ding. Ok, stop, pay attention. "But what are the odds that we'll undergo these tasks while Saix and yourself sit and observe us?"

"I agree!" Xaldin is the first to start up a chorus of protest and accusation. Even I throw the odd insult - I love rebelling. Xemnas holds up his hand again, but this doesn't stop us this time. So, for the first time this meeting, Saix stands up and it only takes one word to have us shitting ourselves.

"Silence." His piercing eyes scan each and every one of us as we sink back into our seats. Scary bastard.

"Thank you," Xemnas picks up. "Now, I knew that you would bring this up. However, contrary to what you may think, this will include all of the Organization, including Saix and myself."

"But how will you manage that?" Vexen makes his voice heard, waving a sarcastic arm in the air.

"I never said I myself devised them," the Superior counters, but then seems to exhale in annoyance. "It will not be me who is conducting the exercises. It will be..." he pauses again, I get the feeling he is almost embarrassed to say this. "King Mickey."

At first no one says anything, a little shell shocked from what has just been said. Then Demyx, surprisingly, is the first to break the silence, laughing hysterically. He is soon joined by pretty much all of us. King Mickey? Seriously? Him and Xemnas were like polar opposites! Some find this so funny to the extent of clutching their sides, banging their fists and tears bursting from their eyes. Xemnas remarkably keeps a straight face.

"...I'm glad you are amused."

We eventually shut up and wipe our faces dry. Oh dear, no one needed to be a mind reader to know that he hated it. And that was probably the funniest part. He drums his fingers until we are completely silent, then speaks up again.

"He will arrive in the next half hour or so and we will assemble at the Altar of Naught. Does anyone have anything to say about this?"

Immediately out of nowhere comes a long, growling noise. We all turn to Axel who is patting his stomach. Xemnas turns to him slowly.

"Thank you for that intellectual contribution, Axel."

Yet even more laughter. Superior is just about at wit's end as he decides to give up on keeping us quiet and says one last thing.

"This meeting is over. Now go, before I kill the lot of you."

Beyond caring at this point, everyone exits the throne room in one way or another. I open another portal and teleport back to where I was before the meeting had started. Marluxia shortly joins me, followed by several others who flop on the sofas. We only have to look at each other to initiate what will probably be the biggest bitch about Xemnas to date.


End file.
